


mistakes were made

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Dirty Talk, Kinktober 2017, M/M, inappropriate use of earpiece comms, nothing ever goes as planned when you're up against Oikawa Tooru, or like that kinda stuff + undercover cops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: On an undercover mission to spy on a certain mafia boss, Iwaizumi has to blend in amongst Tokyo's elite, but after some communication issues, he suddenly no longer has his coworkers speaking into his earpiece, but Oikawa Tooru of all people distracting him from doing his job.





	mistakes were made

**Author's Note:**

> god this is just a silly thing for kinktober pls dont take it too seriously haha  
> day 2, dirty talk! since i already tried writing dirty talk in bed [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11379006) i wanted to try something new... yeah, sorry about that haha

The mission is pretty simple. Undercover, like most of Iwaizumi’s jobs are nowadays — no one really wants to be seen talking to an officer when they’re working with the yakuza — and Iwaizumi can’t complain. His suit is sharp, simple, and he kind of wants to ask his boss if he can borrow it for the wedding of a high school friend next month, because he doesn’t have anything as well-fitting or fashionable. Maybe he won’t ask, he could just take it — that is, as long as there won’t get any blood on it tonight. Even so, he’s pretty sure it was expensive enough for taking it to a dry-cleaner to be worth it. Apparently, you need tailormade and expensive brands to fit in when mingling with Tokyo’s elite. Again, Iwaizumi can’t complain. At least the champagne is free.

There’s a static noise in his left ear, and it has been bothering him for a little while now. Backup hasn’t been checking up with him in awhile either, and he’s not sure if it’s because they’re being lazy or if the signal is actually bad.

Iwaizumi doesn’t work in budgeting, but he figures that a working earpiece is at least more important than a fucking _suit._ He doesn’t know what good quality comms would cost, but he still feels traumatized by the amount of zeros he saw on the bill when he was being fitted for it, and he’s pretty sure you could at least get an earpiece without a horrible scratching noise that made it pretty much impossible for him to focus on actually eavesdropping on any of the conversations around him for that price.

The scratchy static continues, raising in volume, until there’s a low beep in his ear. Iwaizumi scans the faces of the people near him, hoping that it wasn’t audible for anyone but himself.

Then he hears a familiar voice.

 _“Long time, no see, Iwa-chan,”_ _he_ says, light and breezily, into his _earpiece,_ and Iwaizumi’s hold around his champagne glass tightens so hard that he fears breaking it.

He’s been found out. His cover is blown, his backup is gone, and his damn _target_ has somehow gotten into his radio channel, despite the fact that it was supposed to be coded and secured.

“Oikawa,” he whispers under his breath, looking around to assess the situation. Security is lined up by the exists, but they don’t look more alarmed than earlier, and from what Iwaizumi knows about Oikawa, if he wanted him caught — or killed — he would’ve been taken already. Oikawa hasn’t alarmed security yet, meaning that Iwaizumi still has a chance to escape. Meaning that Oikawa is _playing_ with him.

 _“You look dashing, by the way,”_ Oikawa says into his earpiece, and Iwaizumi can imagine the shit-eating grin on his face, even though he can’t actually see him. He turns towards the bar instead, moving between and past the people as discreetly as possible. “Very believable. They used to send in cops wearing polyester suits from _Aoki_ , as if we were idiots,” Oikawa says, proving Iwaizumi’s theory about the suit being wasted money wrong. Well, technically, he still got caught.

“Wait, you can see me—are you here?” Iwaizumi asks, finally making his way up to the bar, sitting down on one of the free stools, waving the bartender away when he comes up to ask for his order.

 _“Of course I can, and I must say, Iwa-chan, those pants really were made for you, your ass looks phenomenal,”_ Oikawa says in his earpiece, and Iwaizumi grits his teeth, looking to the side in hopes of somehow spotting him. _“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to hear my voice?”_ Oikawa then adds, and, self-consciously, Iwaizumi presses his knees together again after just having spread his legs while turning, even though he knows Oikawa is just toying with him.

“Where are you?!” he hisses, turning back towards the bar so any nearby people won’t see him talking to himself like a madman. He needs to blend in, not stand out.

 _“I’ll assume it’s my voice then, you did seem to like it last time too,”_ Oikawa’s voice lowers in his ears, to a sultry purr. Iwaizumi grits his teeth together, trying to suppress the memories of that night, but they pop up involuntarily with Oikawa’s words. He shivers, trying to ignore the phantom feel of Oikawa’s lips brushing over his earlobe.

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi warns, but Oikawa simply laughs in his earpiece again, and Iwaizumi wonders if his boss would get mad if he just pulled it out and dropped it into the champagne.

 _“You know, last time you were much nicer to me,”_ Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi groans, waving over the bartender.

“Last time was a mistake,” he says under his breath before ordering a whiskey — he needs something stronger if he wants to live through this conversation without killing someone. 

_“Oh, right, are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?”_ Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, emptying the glass of champagne in front of him, realising how rude it was of him to order the whiskey when he still wasn’t done. But he really needs it if he has to keep this up without breaking something.

“Definitely not,” Iwaizumi replies to Oikawa, already trying to make up an escape plan. Drinking probably isn’t the smartest choice, but he needs the strength if he has to continue talking to Oikawa any longer.

 _“That’s not what I remember. In fact, I remember a certain someone gasping out my name while I—”_ Oikawa begins, and Iwaizumi chokes mid-drink, successfully interrupting him, but he instantly recovers, clearing his throat.

“You remember no such thing. Are you going to come talk to me or can I leave?” Iwaizumi asks, figuring the best approach is directness. Oikawa laughs into his earpiece again, and Iwaizumi’s frown grows deeper as more memories of that one night returns to him, of how Oikawa had laughed the same way while his hand has sneaked up Iwaizumi’s thigh.

 _“Iwa-chan wants to see me that badly? You know, I could get us a hotel room if you’re interested in continuing where we left off last time,”_ Oikawa says, as shameless as ever, and Iwaizumi isn’t even surprised at his offer at this point.

“Of course, you got it all planned out, don’t you?” he replies, raising the glass to his lips again.

 _“Would you like to hear what I had in mind?”_

“Please, no,” Iwaizumi replies to Oikawa’s question, already fearing the direction this conversation is going.

 _“The handcuffs were fun, truly, but this time I’d like to be able to use my hands for—well, I’ll get to that,”_ Oikawa begins, adding another light laughter at the end. Iwaizumi looks around again, trying to spot him, still with no luck.

“I said no. The next time you’ll see those cuffs is when I’m putting you in jail, dumbass,” Iwaizumi threatens, before emptying his glass. The bartender looks towards him, as if asking if he wants a refill, but Iwaizumi shakes his head. _“So harsh, Iwa-chan. But not very creative. I’ve been thinking of some other, better uses for that pretty mouth of yours,”_ Oikawa begins, voice lowering, and Iwaizumi has to force himself not to shiver at his words.

“I’m going to find you and kill you,” he replies, as coldly as possible.

 _“At my own party? Now that’s just rude,”_ Oikawa says, voice back to it’s playful lightness again.

“Come out,” Iwaizumi says, standing up from his seat, once again scanning the room trying to find him, but he has absolutely no clue where to look, or if Oikawa’s even out in the open. He gives up, instead steering towards the exit he arrived from.

 _“I’m here, Iwa-chan, I’m actually quite offended that you haven’t noticed me yet. I thought I left a deeper impression in you. Maybe it was only skin-deep. Did the scratch-marks you left on my back last longer?”_ Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi freezes, trying to ignore Oikawa’s teasing as he focuses on what Oikawa had also said.

“You’re here?” he asks, looking around again, this time more determined. 

_“Suddenly so eager. That pleases me, Iwa-chan. Will you let me please you tonight as well?”_ Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes again, shaking his head even though he isn’t sure Oikawa can still see him — wait, if he knew Iwaizumi’s reaction was to look around for him again, he probably is keeping an eye on him.

“Could you shut up?”

 _“As much as I love the suit on you, I’d rather have you naked in my bed, to be honest,”_ Oikawa continues, ignoring Iwaizumi’s request.

“I’m leaving,” he says, beginning to walk towards the exit again.

 _“I’d take my time with you this time, Iwa-chan. Stretch you out nice and slowly, explore every inch of skin on your body, fill you out and fuck you until you beg me to let you come again,”_ Oikawa continues, and Iwaizumi _somehow_ manages to find enough willpower in him to keep up a straight face until his last sentence.

“Again? I didn’t beg,” he blurts out, grimacing when he realises what he just said. He wasn’t supposed to play along.

 _“I was being generous, but you will this time,”_ Oikawa replies, and Iwaizumi can _hear_ the smugness in his voice.

“I won’t,” Iwaizumi can’t help but reply, realising that he’s indeed doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

 _“So you accept the challenge?”_ Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi snorts, almost offended that Oikawa would actually think that would work on him. _“Or would you maybe rather be fucking me?”_

“Fuck you.”

_“If you insist.”_

“Oh my god. I’m actually leaving,” Iwaizumi says, picking up his speed towards the exit, no longer bothering to look around in hopes of getting a glimpse of Oikawa. He just needs to get out _now._

 _“I’m at the far right corner, on the platform by the speakers,”_ Oikawa _finally_ tells him, and 

Iwaizumi’s face whips around embarrassingly fast as he turns to the direction Oikawa described, looking for him.

His eyes _finally_ land on Oikawa, who’s already staring right back at him, despite being almost across the room. To no one’s surprise, he looks, well, _amazing_ in his suit, hair styled and smile mesmerizing, surrounded by a bunch of positively gorgeous people. Next to him, they all look bland.

 _“Leaving so early?”_ Oikawa asks, quieter this time.

“I haven’t been in contact with my team in fifteen minutes, if I don’t talk to them, they’ll come in for me,” Iwaizumi explains, forcing himself to look away.

 _“Ah, I guess I should stop blocking their signal, then?”_ Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi instantly turns to look back at him, immediately pissed off again. Oikawa is already leaning in towards a man in a suit, whispering something in his ear. An order.

“Were you—for fucks sake—” Iwaizumi begins, and this time he begins walking in Oikawa’s direction.

 _“I’d love to chat with you now, but I have some people I need to talk to as well. I’ll rent a room in your name. You have an hour — if you’re late, you won’t get any info out of me,”_ Oikawa says, reminding Iwaizumi that he’s the one handing out the cards, that he’s the one in control of this situation.

“Are you—are you offering that?” Iwaizumi asks, more focused on Oikawa’s mention of information than the concealed threat.

 _“Depends on what you’re offering in return?”_ Oikawa asks, the sultry voice returning in an instant, and Iwaizumi groans, turning towards the exit again.

“I’m not selling out my—” he begins, but Oikawa cuts him off before he has the chance.

 _“I wasn’t talking about that, silly. All I want is a night alone with you,”_ Oikawa says, and after a moment of thinking, he chuckles lightly. _“Maybe not just one night.”_

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Iwaizumi asks, and he hadn’t even noticed that he had turned to look at Oikawa again. Oikawa is smiling back at him, wide and confident, like he’s well aware that he has the upper hand.

_“Well, I am the bad guy, aren’t I? At least you know I’ll make it worth your while—don’t try to deny it, Iwa-chan, last time was amazing.”_

“Goodbye,” Iwaizumi asks, with the lack of a better reply. He’d be lying if he denied it, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean he’s actually going to admit that to Oikawa either.

 _“An hour. The room will be in your name,”_ Oikawa reminds him, and Iwaizumi snorts, rolling his eyes at the audacity.

“I said goodbye,” he says, quickening his pace as he _finally_ makes his way to the exit, eyeing the security guards for a moment, relieved to see that none of them is making any move at stopping him.

 _“See you later, Iwa-chan,”_ Oikawa says into his ear as Iwaizumi steps out of the hotel complex, breathing in the fresh air of freedom.

Iwaizumi pulls out the earpiece, letting it fall into his pocket.

After two knocks on the side of the van, the door slides open and Matsukawa’s smiling face is the first thing Iwaizumi sees as he’s pulled inside.

“How did it go?” Hanamaki asks from where he’s sitting by the monitors, trying to detangle a body microphone.

“Horribly,” Iwaizumi replies, sitting down in the chair next to him, well aware that he’s taking Matsukawa’s spot. 

“It didn’t _sound_ like that,” Hanamaki says, smirking at Iwaizumi knowingly, and Matsukawa sits on his armrest, leaning in with an approving hum.

“You were offered information from one of the most powerful people in the yakuza, _and_ it sounds like you already have history together,” he adds, and Iwaizumi gapes at them.

“Wait, how the fuck did you—” Iwaizumi asks, but Hanamaki interrupts him, putting the microphone down.

“He only blocked us from communicating with you,there was nothing wrong with the receiver,” he explains, smile growing wider.

“Oh my god,” Iwaizumi says.

“Are you going to go?” Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa leans in in anticipation.

“Oh my god,” Iwaizumi repeats himself.

“Yup, he’s going to go.”


End file.
